Plane Parts and Pieces
by Ann29
Summary: A collection of miscellaneous short stories and sketches listed in no particular order.
1. Cooking With Wildcat

**Cooking with Wildcat**

Setting: Higher for Hire's kitchen

Wildcat is standing behind table piled high with ingredients and cookbooks. Molly, wearing a chef's hat, is standing beside him. Kit is opposite them, holding cue cards.

(Wildcat's theme plays.)

Wildcat: Today on 'Cooking with Wildcat', we will be making c...c... (squints to read cue card)

Molly: Cupcakes.

Wildcat: Right. Cupcakes. First, we need our ingredients. (He points to things on the table) Flour, salt, eggs, milk, green jello...

Molly: There's no green jello in cupcakes.

Wildcat: There isn't?

Molly: (giggling) No.

Wildcat: Uh, scratch the green jello. (tosses bowl of green jello over shoulder where it splats on the floor) We'll need a whole bunch of other stuff - like the stuff we have right here on the table. We'll just mix it all together now.

Molly: You have to _measure_ the ingredients first.

Wildcat: (pulls tape measure from overalls' pocket) What do I measure?

Molly: Use these. (holds up measuring cups and spoons)

Wildcat: (dubiously) Okay. We have two cups of salt.

Molly: That's _way_ too much!

Wildcat: (scratches head) How much salt do we need, Mollycat?

Molly: (reads from cookbook) One T-S-P.

Wildcat: What's a T-S-P?

Molly: I dunno. That's what the recipe says. Do you know, Kit?

Kit: Nope. Unless it has something to do with ESP.

Wildcat: (peers at cookbook, then turns it upside down) Are you sure this is in English?

Molly: (giggles) Yes.

Wildcat: (shrugs) We'll just leave out the salt. Put all the other ingredients into a big bowl. (dumps everything into the bowl, including egg shells) And now we mix. (pulls out a drill with a wrench attached to the chuck and puts it into bowl)

Molly: Wildcat, what are you doing?

Wildcat: I always use this wrench to mix stuff - oil, cement...

Kit: Hopefully, not _that_ exact wrench.

Wildcat turns on drill to full speed, causing most of the mixture to fly out of the bowl. The kitchen, as well as Wildcat, Kit, and Molly, are plastered with runny, floury goo.

Molly: (reading) After it's mixed, put the batter in well-greased muffin tins.

Wildcat: (squirts a liberal amount of axle grease all over tin) Is that enough?

Molly: (frowns in concentration) I guess, but I don't remember Mommy using _that_ kind of grease...

Kit: (to himself) I hope I don't have to be a taste-tester. Blech!

Wildcat: Grease is grease. (glops batter into the muffin tin and puts it into the oven)

Molly: (reading) Bake at 350 degrees for twenty to thirty minutes or until cupcakes spring back to the touch.

Wildcat: (procures acetylene torch from overalls) Stand back!

He roasts the pan. Thick, black, pungent smoke rolls from the oven.

Wildcat: (coughing) We're going to need lots of frosting.

Kit: (coughing) We're going to need a good explanation!

Rebecca: (calls from office) What are you kids doing in there?

Molly: Nothing! Nothing at all, Mommy!

Baloo: (also from office) Whoo-ee! That smells worse than the time when I flew the Duck through a volcano!

Kit rushes to open the window. Molly uses her chef's hat to fan the smoke towards the window.

Wildcat: (grins at 'camera') And that's it for today's episode of 'Cooking with Wildcat'. Tune in next time when we make dee-licious jellybean omelets topped with croutons. If I can ever get the little croutons to grow. Maybe if I add more salad dressing...

(Wildcat's theme plays.)

The End


	2. A Mother's Day Sketch

**A Mother's Day Sketch**

_**Higher for Hire****  
Mother's Day  
May 1939**_

Rebecca emerged from the bathroom, pulling her robe as well as she could around her growing stomach. She sniffed the air; she could detect the distinct, delicious odor of coffee and eggs. Then, she heard voices coming from the kitchen. Leaning against the banister, she listened to hear what was going on.

"We're cooking breakfast for Mommy," Molly was saying in a sing-song voice. "We're cooking breakfast for Mommy."

"Molly, be quiet!" Kit said.

"Don't worry. She's all the way up there and besides, she can't hear us over Daddy's snoring."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

Rebecca smiled and slowly ascended the stairs in order not to spoil their surprise.

_**Kitchen**_

"Boy, won't Mommy be surprised?" Molly said as she intently bent over the card that she was making.

"She'll be more surprised if we burn the house down. Speaking of which, do you smell something burning?" Kit turned from the scrambled eggs that he was cooking to see smoke billowing from the toaster. "_Molly!_ You're supposed to be watching the toast." He popped out the two smoking charcoal slabs of toast and tossed them into the trash, blew on his singed fingers, put two more slices of bread into the toaster and hurried back to the scrambled eggs.

"I can't. I have to finish this extra-specially good card." She proudly showed him the bouquet of flowers that she had drawn in crayon on the front. "Do you think we should put the baby's name on it?"

As he dished fluffy golden eggs onto a plate, her brother said, "The baby doesn't have a name yet."

"But it's for Mother's Day and Mommy is its Mommy, too."

"Tell ya what. You can put 'and baby' after your name."

"Why is my name always second?"

Kit pulled the butter and jelly out of the refrigerator. "Because you're younger."

Indignantly, Molly said, "Stop having birthdays so I can catch up!"

Kit chuckled as he popped two pieces of golden brown toast out of the toaster and put them on the plate next to the eggs. "I'll try, sis."

"Card's done. Can I put the butter and jelly on the toast?"

"Fine. Just don't get it all over." Kit poured coffee in a cup and added two spoonfuls of sugar, just as he knew Rebecca liked. Then he carefully arranged the plate and cup on a tray together with silverware and a cloth napkin.

"Molly, watch what you're doing!" Kit snapped as Molly splattered jelly all over the napkin. Frowning at her, he replaced the napkin.

"How come you're being so bossy?" Molly said, frowning back at him.

"Sorry," he said contritely. "I-I just want this to be perfect. This is the first Mother's Day I've had a mother."

"Oh," Molly said quietly. "Do you remember your real mom?"

"No."

"Not at all?"

"Nuh-huh. I was really little when she died."

"That's sad."

Kit nodded silently, then laughed a little when Molly hugged him.

"Good thing that my mom wanted to be your mom too, huh?" she said candidly.

Kit recalled a starry night two years ago, echoes of a lullaby, and the best chocolate chip cookie he had ever tasted. It was the first time that he felt as if he truly belonged, that he had a home. "Yeah, it is," he smiled, hugging her back. "Done with the toast?"

"Check! Sign the card."

"Oh, yeah..." Kit quickly scribbled his name. "Check." He picked up the tray. "You grab the card, Short Stuff."

"Pull chocks!" Molly said with a giggle.

_**Baloo and Rebecca's Bedroom**_

Molly pushed the slightly ajar door open and peeked inside.

"Are they awake?" Kit asked, gingerly balancing the tray.

"Do you even have to ask?" Molly said wryly as her father's sonorous snoring filled the air.

The cubs quietly entered the room and went over to where Rebecca was pretending to sleep.

Almost bursting with excitement, Molly tapped Rebecca's shoulder and whispered, "Mommy! Mom!"

Rebecca opened her eyes and gasped in feigned surprise. "What's all this?"

"It's for Mother's Day," Molly explained. "Breakfast and here's the card that I made."

Kit put the tray on the bed beside Rebecca.

Beaming, Rebecca said, "Looks fabulous!"

Sleepily, Baloo murmured, "Did someone say 'breakfast', my two favorite words?" Seeing the food, he reached for a piece of toast. "Mmm...now this is what I call service!"

"Daddy, that's not for you," Molly said reprovingly, slapping at her father's hand.

"Baloo, listen to this," Rebecca said, reading from the card. "'Roses are red, violets are blue, Happy Mother's Day, we love you. Love, Kit, Molly, and the baby.'" She hugged both of her children, tears swimming in her eyes. "Thank you. Thank you."

Hearing a loud slurp, Rebecca, Kit, and Molly looked over at Baloo, who was licking jelly off his fingers. "Are you takin' orders for Father's Day?"

Rebecca said, "Baloo!" at the same time and in the same indignant tone as Molly's, "Daddy!"

As Baloo winked at him, Kit grinned. The boy wasn't sure about Rebecca, but he knew that this had been the best Mother's Day that he had ever had.

The End


	3. Becky's Birthday Sketch

**Becky's Birthday Sketch**

Disclaimer: TaleSpin and its characters are property of Buena Vista / Disney and are used without permission.

This sketch was composed in honor of Sally Struther's birthday. (July 28)

_**Higher for Hire**_

The Sea Duck splashed down for a landing and taxied up to the dock. A few moments later, Baloo hopped out of the seaplane and lumbered towards Higher for Hire, whistling "She'll Be Comin' 'Round the Mountain'.

Just at that moment, Kit ran out to meet him. "About time you're home. Miz Cunningham's birthday party starts in five minutes."

Baloo's whistling faded. "What? Becky's birthday is today?"

Kit slapped his forehead. "Oh, don't tell me you forgot!"

"Don't think I ever knew about it. Why didn't someone tell me?"

_** A Week Before Rebecca's Birthday **_

Rebecca was window-shopping in downtown Cape Suzette with Baloo, who was toting her purchases.

"Oh, look at that!" Rebecca cried, pointing to something in a store window. "That would be a perfect birthday present. That is, if anyone would care to get it for me. For my birthday, which is next week. Next Monday, actually." She shot a pointed look at Baloo.

From behind a mound of packages and bags, Baloo murmured, "Sure, whatever, Becky. Man, why does she have to buy so much stuff?"

_** Three Days Before Rebecca's Birthday **_

Kit stealthily peeked into Higher for Hire's office. Seeing Rebecca sitting at her desk, he quickly whipped the package that he was carrying behind his back, sidled through the door, and started to tiptoe up the stairs.

Baloo, lounging in his armchair, said loudly, "What's that, kiddo?"

"Shh!" Kit whispered. He glanced at Rebecca, who was pretending to be oblivious to all that was going on. "It's for Miz Cunningham's birthday."

Misunderstanding what the boy had said, Baloo exclaimed, "Bees weigh? How should I know what a bee weighs?"

"Never mind," Kit whispered, then sped upstairs to hide his package.

_** Two Days Before Rebecca's Birthday **_

Baloo sat on the edge of the dock, fishing. "What a great afternoon off. Blue sky, blue sea, lotsa fish itchin' to get caught, smoke rollin' from Wildcat's houseboat." A moment later, he exclaimed, "Smoke rollin' from Wildcat's houseboat?"

He dropped his fishing pole on the dock and ran to the houseboat just as Wildcat stumbled out of it, choking and coughing and carrying a bucket.

"What happened?" Baloo asked.

"The blow torch was set a leeeeetle too high. Hope Miz Cunningham likes her cake well done."

"Cake?"

"Yeah. Miz Cunningham's Happy New Year's cake."

"New Year's" Baloo exclaimed. "This is July."

"It is?" Wildcat said, scratching his head.

"Yeah."

"Yup, in two days Miz Cunningham will start a new year, and she thought it would be the best year out of the _cough, cough_ years before it."

"Huh? I think you've been inhalin' too much smoke, Wildcat."

"She said that she thought this next year would be the best year out of the _cough, cough_ years before it." Wildcat shrugged. "That's what she said. Oh, and she's not going to wear her birthday suit to the party, because it'd be too drafty." Using his bucket, he scooped up some water, plucked a fish out of the bucket, and tossed it back into the harbor. He then went inside, saying, "Gotta put the cake out."

**_ One Day Before Rebecca's Birthday _**

Baloo emerged from the refrigerator with a sandwich. Molly was at the table, drawing pictures.

With a spray of crumbs, Baloo said, "That's a purdy picture, Pigtails."

"It's a card for Mom's birthday tomorrow."

"No kiddin'. Man..." he said, smacking his lips. "This peanut butter's dry. I'm gonna need a soda to wash it down." He returned to the refrigerator and started rummaging.

**_ Back to Rebecca's Birthday _**

When he realized that he had missed all of those obvious clues, Baloo cried, "Oh, man! When Becky finds out I didn't get her anything, I'll be fired for sure."

"It's kind of late now, Papa Bear. Everyone's waiting," Kit said as he led Baloo through the office.

"I'm a goner. A solid goner..." Panicking, Baloo braced himself against the kitchen door doorframe. "Can I have your present, Li'l Britches?"

"Yeah, right."

"I'll pay you for it."

"No...way!" Kit said with a grunt of exertion, pushing Baloo through the kitchen door.

Once inside the kitchen, Wildcat snapped a party hat on Baloo's head and Molly slipped a noisemaker into his hand.

Seeing Rebecca sitting at the table behind a lopsided cake and several presents, Baloo cleared his throat nervously. "Uh, happy b-day, Rebecca."

"Baloo, you're just in time to see me open the present that you gave me," Rebecca said.

"That _ I_ gave you?" Baloo exclaimed. "B-b-but...I..."

Rebecca pointed to a large, neatly wrapped package. "I bought it for you."

"You...what?" Baloo said, perplexed.

"I figured you'd forget, so I bought a present from you to me," she explained.

Feeling a little relieved, Baloo grinned. "That's real nice of you, Beckers."

"Don't worry," she said with a sly smile. She wasn't about to tell him that she had bought it on sale, because she was enjoying seeing the worm squirm. "I'm taking it out of your paycheck."

Baloo's grin disappeared faster than he could down a Krakatoa Special. "Swell..." Catching Rebecca's stern look, he amended, "I mean, happy b-day, Becky." He weakly blew on the noisemaker.

The End


	4. A NotSoSweet Valentine's Day

**A Not-So-Sweet Valentine's Day**

Disclaimer: TaleSpin and its characters are property of Buena Vista/Disney and are used without permission.

_**Higher for Hire - Exterior**_

Baloo: (carrying a jumbo-sized heart-shaped box of chocolates under his arm) Hey, Li'l Britches. Watch ol' Papa Bear sweet-talk sweet Becky with this Valentine present.

Kit: (eyeing candy box that's bigger than Molly) That's great, but...

Baloo: Might even buy us an afternoon off. Wish me luck.

Kit: (shrugs) Good luck. (After Baloo enters office, he mutters...) You're gonna need it.

Higher for Hire's Office

Baloo: (strolls confidently across office) Hey, Beckers.

Rebecca: (absently, without looking up from stack of paperwork) Hi, Baloo.

Baloo slides chocolate box under her nose.

Rebecca: What's this?

Baloo: Oh, nothin' much. Just somethin' I picked up to wish the best boss lady in the world a Happy Heart Day.

Rebecca: (astonished) You're kidding, right?

Baloo: Nope. Now, aren't you gonna give me somethin' in exchange? (grins suavely)

Rebecca: (gulps nervously) You mean...?

Baloo: Yup, like the afternoon off. Valentine Day's a holiday, an' holidays mean time off.

Rebecca: (relieved, bursts out laughing)

Baloo: (confused) What's so funny?

Rebecca: (wipes her eyes) Well, it's true that today's the 14th.

Baloo: Yeah. So?

Rebecca: (turns her daily calendar towards him) March 14th.

Baloo: Oops! That's how come I snagged this big boxeroo for only a buck.

Kit: (through open window) Yeah, that you borrowed from me. Sounds like you were several days late and a dollar short, Papa Bear. (snickers)

Baloo: (disappointed) Guess this means no time off.

Rebecca: Afraid not. (hands him a clipboard with details of that afternoon's delivery) But here, just to show what a big-hearted boss I am, I'll share my candy.

Baloo: (perks up) Really? (opens box, chooses one piece, sets it on the desk in front of Rebecca, puts lid on, tucks box under his arm, and beats a hasty retreat) Thanks for the sweets, Becky!

Rebecca: Baloo! I didn't mean the whole box! (takes off after him) Baloo, get back here with my chocolate! BALOOOOO!

Kit: (watching as Rebecca chases Baloo all over the docks) Why does Valentine's Day make grown-ups act so silly?


	5. After Jolly Molly Christmas

**After "Jolly Molly Christmas" **

TaleSpin and its characters are property of Buena Vista/Disney and are used without permission.

_**Louie's Island**_

The Higher for Hire crew and Louie walked down to the nightclub amid gently falling snow.

Wildcat, whose eyes flitted from the snow globe to the snow that was falling around him, scratched his head. "Does the world have to be turned upside down for the snow to dump out?"

Molly asked, "Is it snowing in Cape Suzette?"

Rebecca, who was holding her daughter, replied, "We'll see, sweetie."

Molly said, "I hope so. I wanna make a snowman tomorrow."

At the door, Louie offered, "Come on in an' grab a cup of holiday cheer. On the house." From inside the nightclub came raucous laughter and the sound of the band playing a jazzy version of "Jingle Bells".

Baloo looked at Kit, who shrugged as if to say, "Up to you. You're the pilot."

Before he could accept, Rebecca interjected with, "Thank you, Louie, but we need to get home before Santa comes."

"But he's already come," Molly pointed out.

Rebecca lightly touched the little girl's nose. "He brought my present, but he hasn't brought yours yet."

"Hey, that's right! We gotta go home, Baloo, right now!"

Baloo chuckled, defeated by a determined 6-year-old. "All right, Button-nose." He patted her on the head, then turned to Louie and shook his hand. "Thanks, my main Santa."

"Anytime, cuz, but when Easter rolls around, I ain't dressin' up as no fuzzy bunny."

"You got it. See ya when I see ya," Baloo said over his shoulder as he followed the rest of the Higher for Hire gang down the dock towards the _Sea Duck_.

_**H4H's Office  
Later**_

The radio was softly playing Christmas carols. The room was dark save for the blinking lights of the Christmas tree bathing the room in flashes of red, green, blue, and white.

Rebecca arranged one last present under the tree, then sat back on her heels to view the effect. Satisfied, she got up and went to the door. She opened the door to watch the snow falling. She stood there, smiling.

Baloo came from the kitchen, licking his fingers. Seeing Rebecca standing in the doorway, he walked over to her.

Catching sight of the ring of chocolate around Baloo's mouth, she said, "That fudge was for tomorrow."

"It couldn't wait to be eaten," Baloo said, licking his lips.

"You mean _you_ couldn't wait."

There was a brief silence as they watched the softly falling snow.

"Sure is purdy," Baloo said.

"You can say that again."

"Sure is purdy."

Rebecca gave him an exasperated look.

Baloo held up his hands defensively. "Hey, don't blame me. You told me to say it." After a while, he said, "It just keeps fallin'. The _Sea Duck _ looks like it has a layer of vanilla frostin'."

"If it doesn't melt, Molly might have enough to make her snowman...or at least do this." She scooped up some snow and rubbed it into Baloo's chest.

"Hey!" In retaliation, Baloo scooped up snow in both hands and started packing it into a gigantic snowball.

"You wouldn't!" Rebecca said, running outside.

"Wouldn't I?" he replied, chasing after her.

Just then, Kit walked out of the bathroom, dressed in his nightshirt. He headed downstairs to the hammock where he would be sleeping. He was looking forward to the day when the plumbing in the Cunningham's apart was fixed so they could go home. He missed sleeping in his own bed. As he passed the window on the landing, he caught sight of Baloo and Rebecca laughing and throwing snow at each other. He stood there, bathed in the intermittent, multi-colored flashes of the Christmas tree lights, watching them. Intermingled with the adults' laughter was "Silent Night" playing softly on the radio.

The End


	6. VDay

**V-Day**

_TaleSpin_ and its characters are the property of Buena Vista/Disney and are used without permission.

_**Sea Duck  
Night**_

This was it. V-Day. The day that men were expected to shower their sweethearts with gifts and take them to romantic places.

Baloo had heard stories about V-Days gone wrong from other men, and he had felt relieved that he was still footloose and fancy-free. That is, until a month ago when he and Rebecca had become engaged. Now he personally knew the pressure that other men in his position had experienced, the pressure to make V-Day truly spectacular for his fiancée.

Baloo glanced over at the co-pilot's seat where Rebecca was gazing out at the starry sky. She was wearing the dress that he loved - the pretty pink one that she had worn to the Pilot's Ball. Even though he could usually anticipate her reactions (and he knew that she'd be impressed by where he was taking her), he still felt a little nervous. Every single one of their dates since their engagement had been disastrous. That was why he had planned something extra special for Valentine's Day.

As if feeling his eyes on her, Rebecca turned towards him. "You know, if I didn't know better, I'd say we were going to Louie's."

"Maybe. Maybe not," Baloo replied vaguely, a twinkle in his eyes. "You'll just have to see."

The suspense was killing Rebecca. She had tried everything she knew to drag the secret out of Baloo, but he would not tell her where they were going on their date. Something wasn't adding up. Baloo wouldn't wear a tuxedo to Louie's and he certainly wouldn't tell her to wear her best dress. A feeling of foreboding washed over her like the dark waves they were flying over.

"You _promised_ that this wasn't going to be like our other disastrous dates," Rebecca retorted.

Baloo smiled mysteriously. "Cross my heart an' hope to fly." After a pause, he chuckled. "Remember our first date?"

"You mean the one where my purse was stolen when we were taking that moonlight stroll through Cape Park and then we spent the rest of the evening chasing the purse snatcher?" Rebecca smiled a little. "The way you flattened that guy when you tackled him..."

"Yup, the cops had to pretty much peel him off the sidewalk. Then our second date at the Copabanana when the waiter slipped on that banana peel and dumped all that food on us?"

"It took _forever_ to wash that tomato sauce out of my good blouse. But that wasn't as bad as our third date when those little hooligans threw gum at us in the movie theater. I pulled gum out of my hair for a week!"

Baloo glanced at her hair. "I didn't notice any gum when we went dancin' last Saturday."

"That's because we were too busy getting out of that dance hall after that clumsy oaf stepped on my skirt and ripped the back panel out."

"Yup, my cap sure came in handy that night, even though you thought it looked tacky with a suit."

"It _did_ look tacky with a suit, but I'm sure glad you had worn it. It would have been drafty otherwise." Despite herself, Rebecca laughed a little.

As they descended towards Louie's, Rebecca said apprehensively, "Baloo, are you sure about this?"

Baloo reached over and squeezed her hand. "Trust me, Becky. This is gonna be one Valentine's Day you'll never forget."

"That's what I'm afraid of," Rebecca muttered under her breath.

After taxiing up to the dock, Baloo and Rebecca disembarked and walked towards the nightclub arm-in-arm. When they got closer, they saw that there was a sign on the door. It said, "Closed Valentine's Day."

"Closed?" Rebecca said.

"Not for us, it ain't," Baloo replied.

A slow smile of understanding spread across Rebecca's face as Baloo knocked on the door.

The door was opened by Louie. He was clad in a tuxedo, a white towel was draped across his arm, and his thinning hair was slicked back. "Welcome to Louie's, madam and mon sewer. Let me escort you to your private, personal table."

The nightclub was decorated in a Valentine's Day theme - hearts, cupids, pink and red, etc. It was bathed in the glow of candlelight from candles lining the railings, the bar, the stage, etc. All the tables had been pushed back against the wall except for one - the least rickety table in the establishment with the only two matching chairs. On that table was a tablecloth, a vase with a single red rose, and a flickering candle. On stage, a band was playing romantic music.

Rebecca gasped with astonishment as she gazed at her surroundings. This couldn't be the same rowdy, rustic nightclub.

"May I take your wrap, madam?" Louie said as he pulled out her chair.

Rebecca handed him her shawl and sat down.

As Louie pushed her chair in, he added, "And may I add that you look..." Here, he inserted a wolf whistle.

Baloo growled, "Ix-nay. Ix-nay."

Louie flashed a mischievous grin at Baloo. "I'll be right back with your salads."

After the ape had hurried to the bar, Rebecca's tongue loosened. "Baloo, I can't believe this. But...how?"

Baloo grasped her hand across the table. "Like it?"

"Love it," she replied with a smile as she squeezed his hand three times.

After they had eaten a meal consisting of food that Baloo wasn't able to recognize, let alone pronounce, he said, "Wanna dance, Beckers?"

"Love to, but first I need to use the powder room." She rose, kissed his cheek with a, "I'll be right back," and headed towards the bathroom.

Louie came over. "How's it goin', cuz?"

"Great, thanks to you, my man." Baloo slapped Louie's palm. "Grade-A grub. Band's first-class, too. It was worth every cent of my paycheck."

"Nothin' but the best for my best bud." Teasingly, Louie added, "But I did it mostly for that nice chunk of change."

Annoyed, Baloo frowned and impatiently waved him away.

"Enjoy the rest of your night," Louie said when Rebecca emerged from the bathroom. He filled the glasses and whisked away the empty plates. "Yell if ya need anything. I'll be in my office, countin' my dough."

"What was that all about?" Rebecca asked.

"Oh, nuthin'." Loudly, Baloo added, "Just Louie bein' his usual blowhard self."

"I heard that!" Louie yelled from across the nightclub.

Laughing, Baloo and Rebecca started to dance.

Swaying to the music, Rebecca gazed into his eyes and said, "This has been the most romantic Valentine's Day ever."

"Told ya to trust me," Baloo said softly.

"I do."

"Sure, Becky."

Rebecca shrank under his shrewd, skeptical look. "Usually...sometimes..."

"Uh-huh."

"Okay, I admit that I didn't think you could pull off something like this. I was expecting a couple of flowers, maybe a box of candy with a few pieces missing, but nothing like this." She sighed happily and rested her head on his chest.

Baloo hugged her closer. "No distractions, no one around to mess up our date. Just you, me, an' the music."

Just then, the door flew open. A gust of wind snuffed the candles out. One by one, the musicians stopped playing.

A loud voice that reverberated throughout the dark room demanded, "Why's this place closed? And on Valentine's Day, too. Louis! Louis, where are you? It's your Auntie Louise!"

Rebecca groaned, "I _knew_ this was too good to last," as the electric lights were turned on.

"Ain't this a romantic sight?" Louise L'Amour said as she headed towards Baloo and Rebecca. "And a band! You don't mind sharin' it with me and a hundred or so of my closest friends, now, do you?"

"Guess not," Baloo said hollowly.

"Come on in, boys and girls," Louise called out the door. "The party's fine!"

The band struck up a rousing tune as a horde of laughing and chattering people poured through the door. Baloo and Rebecca watched helplessly as people crowded around them.

Over the din, Rebecca yelled, "You, me, and the music, huh?"

"And a hundred of Aunt Louise's friends?" Baloo said with a shrug and a sheepish grin.

Accepting the situation reluctantly with a disappointed sigh, Rebecca said, "Chalk this up to Disastrous Date Number 5."

Baloo twirled her around, causing her to giggle. When she stopped twirling, Baloo pulled her into his arms and murmured into her ear, "And counting."

The End


	7. I Know What I Did Last Summer

**I Know What I Did Last Summer**

_**Cape Suzette Junior High****  
September 1937  
8**__**th**__** Period English Class**_

Kit Cloudkicker paused in sketching the _Sea Duck_ on the corner of his notebook to glance up at the clock. Only five more minutes of the school day to go, then he would be free. He groaned inwardly when his English teacher, Mrs. Palindrome, started scratching something on the chalkboard. He had hoped to avoid homework in at least one subject. Junior high, as he was finding out, meant _a lot_ more homework.

"For tomorrow, class," the petite bearess said as she dusted the chalk off her hands, "I want you to read the short story found on pages ten through eighteen in your textbook and answer questions one through six. _And_ I want detailed answers, meaning more than one sentence per answer."

Scribbling the assignment down in his notebook, Kit thought, _Good thing Baloo doesn't have a delivery tonight. With all the homework I have, it would take a trip all the way to Thembria and back to do it._

When the final bell of the day rang, twenty students slammed their books shut and made a mad dash for the door.

Just as the young navigator was about to follow his fellow students, his teacher called out over the din, "Kit Cloudkicker, may I have a word with you?"

_Swell_, the boy thought. Shoulders slumped, he walked back to her desk. "Yes, ma'am?"

She opened the top drawer in her desk and drew out a paper. "I would like to discuss your essay entitled, 'What I Did During Summer Vacation'. I find it unbelievable."

"But it's all true, Mrs. Palindrome. I really was in the Broccoli Day Parade, and I went treasure hunting, and I helped Baloo save Cape Suzette from the Panda-La invaders, and I helped keep Usland from being involved in an international incident by saving the Thembrian Golden Sprocket from being stolen by Trader Moe and his goons," he said all in one breath.

She waved him aside impatiently. "I'm not concerned about _that_."

"You...you aren't?" Kit stammered.

"I find it unbelievable that a boy your age doesn't know how to spell 'broccoli'." Plucking a pen from her neat brown curls, she circled the misspelled word in red ink.

"Oh," Kit said flatly. "I'll work on that."

"See that you do." Mrs. Palindrome handed him the essay. "And, Kit?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Try to stick to the facts next time."

Kit, thinking of all the summer's adventures that he _didn't_ include in the essay, found it hard not to smile. "Yes, ma'am."

The End


	8. Having a Ball

**Having a Ball  
**_**  
**_

_TaleSpin and its characters are the property of Buena Vista Television/Walt Disney Co. _

This is my version of what happened after "Gruel and Unusual Punishment". _  
_

_**The Pilot's Ball**_

The ballroom was packed with pilots of all ages, sizes, and species along with their guests when Baloo, sporting his new tuxedo, and Rebecca, resplendent in her flowing pink gown, stepped into the room.

Baloo, spying a lot of familiar faces, grinned. His toes tapped to the lively tune that the band was playing. "Some shindig, ain't it, Beckers?" When a waiter walked past them, the big bear yanked the tray away from him, saying, "I'll take that gar-con. Thank you."

The penguin waiter walked off, perplexed.

"Ba-loo!" Rebecca said between clenched teeth.

"What?" Baloo said with a spray of _hors d'ouevres_. He gulped loudly. "I remembered my manners an' thanked the man." He scooped up the rest of the _hors d'ouevres_ and shoved them into his mouth.

"You're being rude..." Rebecca warned in a sing-song voice. She glanced around the room, embarrassed.

"Oh." Baloo looked at the empty tray, devoid of all but a few crumbs. "Did you want some, too, Becky? No problemo. I'll snag the next tray that walks by in two shakes."

Rebecca yanked on Baloo's lapels so that he was face-to-face with her. "How can you eat like that in front of all these people?"

"Easy. After spendin' two days livin' on nothin' but steam, I'm starvin'!"

"If you don't behave yourself, I'll put you on a steam diet _permanently!_" she said, giving him a little shake before letting go of his lapels.

"Okay, okay..." he muttered contritely, straightening his jacket.

Suddenly, there was a mass exodus towards the door. The crowd nearly knocked Baloo and Rebecca over.

"Hey, where's the fire?" Baloo wondered.

From the doorway, Ace London's voice said, "I'm here. You all can give a cheer. It's..."

"Ace London!" the crowd chanted in unison.

A few women sighed and swooned.

"You've got _that_," London snapped his fingers, "right."

Baloo groaned. "There goes the party."

Rebecca stood on tiptoe in an attempt to see over the crowd. "Ace London? Here? Really?"

"Aw...not you, too," Baloo said, disappointed. He walked over to the refreshment table and grabbed two glasses of punch.

Rebecca accepted a glass of punch from him. "Don't tell me you're jealous, Baloo."

"Me? Jealous? Ha! It's just that Ace London is..."

"Famous?" Rebecca suggested slyly.

"Yeah." Baloo drained his glass in a single gulp.

"Admired by men and women everywhere?"

"That, too." The big bear's scowl deepened.

"Dashingly handsome?"

He glared at her. "This ain't cheerin' me up any, Becky."

Rebecca hid an amused smile. "Tell me. What do you have against Ace London?"

"Ever since me an' him were kids, Ace has been good at two things: gettin' the glory an' my goat. Whatever I did, he did better. Whatever I had, he took away from me." Angrily, he spat, "There now. Is that a good enough reason? Are ya happy?"

Thoughtfully, Rebecca said, "Obviously, _you_ aren't."

"Oh, man! Here he comes." Baloo turned towards the refreshment table and dipped himself another glass of punch.

"If it isn't my old pal Baloo." Ace slapped Baloo on the back, causing him to spill bright red punch all over the table and floor. "How's life in the slow shipping lanes? Able to keep up?" He laughed.

"Hi, Ace," Baloo said sullenly.

"Well...helloooo," Ace London said, flashing a suave smile at Rebecca. "Aren't you going to introduce me to this lovely lady, Baloo?"

"Ace London, Rebecca Cunningham," Baloo said curtly.

Ace kissed the petite bearess's hand. "_Enchante_, Rebecca."

A starry-eyed Rebecca sighed.

"Bye-bye, Becky," Baloo muttered through clenched teeth, resigning himself to losing her company.

"What's the prettiest girl at the ball doing with this big dumb galoot?"

"Watch it..." Baloo mumbled, squeezing his glass so hard that it cracked.

"How'd you like the privilege of cutting the rug with the world's best pilot?" Ace asked.

Before Rebecca could reply, Baloo cleared his throat, causing her to glance over at him. What she saw surprised her. Baloo looked...hurt? Slowly, she said, "I would love to."

"Gre..." Ace London began with a confident smile.

Rebecca took hold of her pilot's hand. "Come on, Baloo."

"What? But...but..." Ace spluttered. He wasn't used to being refused.

"Well..." Rebecca winked at Baloo, who, in turn, grinned at her. "You said 'the world's best pilot'."

Smugly, Baloo said, "You heard the lady, Ace. Better luck next time."

Ace still looked confused as Baloo and Rebecca headed towards the dance floor.

"Becky..." Baloo said, taking her in his arms. "Why'd you...? I mean, any girl would jump at the chance to dance with Ace London. How come...?"

"I'm not just 'any girl'," Rebecca replied with a toss of her head.

"No, you ain't," Baloo agreed wholeheartedly.

"And Ace London didn't try to lose weight for my sake." She smiled up at him. "You did."

Baloo hugged her closer. "You've got _that_ right. You an' me are gonna have a ball after all."

The End


	9. Baloo's Big Break

**Baloo's Big Break**

_TaleSpin_ and its characters are the property of Disney/Buena Vista and have been used without permission.

_**Higher for Hire  
Early, Early Morning**_

Baloo cautiously opened the office door and peeked around it. Across the room, he could see that his boss had once again fallen asleep at her desk, her head pillowed on her arms.

Deciding that it was safe, he entered the room, forgetting that he was wearing his prize for standing the most of Louie's All-You-Can-Stand-For-A-Dollar Special. The fruit bouquet 'hat' brushed against the top of the door frame. He had just enough time, not to mention fast enough reflexes, to catch an orange, a pineapple, and a mango before they smashed onto the floor.

His eyes flew to Rebecca. Luckily for him, it appeared that she hadn't heard anything.

Baloo gently put the fruit down on a nearby crate. He glanced at the grandfather clock as he tiptoed past it. It was 2:45 AM. The last time that he had come in this late from one of Louie's parties, Rebecca had threatened to lock him out. He was glad, and a little surprised, that she hadn't made good on her threat.

_Creak!_

Baloo cringed as the first stair complained under his weight.

Casting a glance at his boss, he was relieved to see that she hadn't moved a muscle.

_Creak!_ went the second stair.

There didn't appear to be so much as an eyelash flutter from Rebecca.

Heart pounding, Baloo decided to throw caution to the wind. He bounded up the stairs two at a time.

At the top, he looked over the railing at Rebecca. She was still asleep.

Baloo breathed a sigh of relief. This was one night that he wouldn't have to endure a lecture on punctuality and responsibility.

The big bear tiptoed into the bedroom that he shared with Kit. He blindly groped his way through the darkness...and stubbed his toe on the leg of the bed.

As he sank onto his bed, he bit his lip to suppress a cry of pain.

Then he had to bite his lip again to suppress a yelp of surprise. Molly was sleeping in his bed, snug as a bug in a rug.

_Oh, man_, Baloo thought. _Can't go beddy-bye there._

He tiptoed out of the room. This time, he managed to avoid stubbing his toe.

Once on the landing, Baloo peered over the railing. Rebecca still was peacefully snoozing at her desk.

Taking a deep breath, he rushed down the stairs and sped across the office to his favorite maroon easy chair.

He wearily sank into the soft chair and glanced over at his boss, not believing his luck. Despite all the noise he had made going up and down the stairs, she was still asleep.

Smiling triumphantly, he closed his eyes.

Then he heard it.

A faint sound as of wood splintering.

Baloo's eyes flew open.

Rebecca was still at her desk, fast asleep. There was no one else in the room.

Hearing nothing but the ticking of the grandfather clock and his boss's soft, even breathing, the big bear closed his eyes, thinking that his imagination must have been playing tricks on him.

Then, the splintering sound continued. It was louder and closer this time. In fact, the entire chair seemed to be shaking violently.

"Earthquake!" Baloo shouted as the chair literally fell to pieces beneath him.

A teeth-jarring, bone-shaking moment later, Baloo found himself sitting on the floor amid the wreckage of his chair with Rebecca standing over him. She was laughing so hard that tears were running down her cheeks.

"What in the blue blazes was that?" he exclaimed.

"_That_ was payback for making me wait up for you every night for the past two weeks," Rebecca replied between guffaws. She pulled a hand saw from behind her back.

"'Least it wasn't 'cause I've been overdoing it on Louie's Chocolate-Chunk Brownie Bites," Baloo murmured sheepishly.

The End


	10. Internal Conflict

**Intern-al Conflict**

_TaleSpin_ and its characters are the property of Disney/Buena Vista Television and are used without permission. All other characters are mine and cannot be used without permission. **  
**

_**Higher for Hire**_

Baloo walked into Higher for Hire one afternoon after returning from a delivery. He saw Rebecca at her desk - as usual. What wasn't usual was that there was an unknown young man rifling through the filing cabinets.

"Becky, who is _that?_"

"That happens to be Wally, our new intern."

The flurry of files ceased when Wally, an eager beaver, rushed over to shake hands with Baloo.

"Intern?" Baloo looked down at the dapper young man standing before him.

"Yes." With a superior air, Rebecca explained. "Interns are college students who want to get career experience." In a whispered aside, she added, "But the best thing of all is that he works for free."

"Free?" Baloo cried incredulously. He winced because Wally's long claws were cutting into his hand.

"Wally was the only one who applied for the internship."

"No wonder. Wouldn't catch me workin' for free."

"It's hard to catch you working at all."

Wally was still pumping Baloo's hand. "It's an honor to meet you, Mr. Baloo."

"It-it is?"

The young beaver continued to pump the pilot's hand. "I've heard so much about you, and I know _everything_ there is to know about airplanes. I've been in tens of thousands of them, you know."

"You have?" Baloo said skeptically.

"I've _seen_ tens of thousands of airplanes," Wally admitted. "But I do know Charles Limburger."

"You do?"

"Not really, but I know someone who knows him. I really do know all about airplanes, even though I've never been in one. Want me to show you a trick or three?"

Baloo spluttered. "_You_ show _me_ a...?"

"Being a pilot must be the most exciting job in the world."

"It has its ups and downs." Baloo tried, and failed, to extract his hand.

"I bet it's never a dull moment, is it, with air pirates and thunderstorms and stuff like that?"

"Sure, kid, uh..."

"'Cause I'm looking for a career that will never be boring. If you don't mind my asking, how did you get to be a pilot?"

"Well, I..."

"How long have you been a pilot? Just by looking at you, I can tell that you've had _years_ of experience. Not that you look _that_ old or anything."

Baloo was becoming frustrated and more than a little annoyed. "I can tell you from experience that..."

"And why are you so fat?"

"Hey!"

Rebecca snickered. "Come on, Wally, let's get back to work."

"Sure, Miz Cunningham. I've already reorganized your filing cabinet in the new way - backwards! Now I can show you the new way to organize your ledgers using the new math." Wally hurried over to her desk to wreak more havoc.

"I'm tellin' ya, Becky, that kid is trouble," Baloo growled. As he shook his sore hand, he thought, _That guy could use a man-e-cure! As _ _if I don't have enough holes in me as it is_.

"I think you're confusing 'truthful' with 'trouble'." But she didn't sound as enthusiastic as before.

Baloo stormed outside. He settled into his hammock, yanked his cap down over his eyes, and muttered under his breath, "The kid is trouble with a capital...whatever."

A moment later, he heard a yelp followed by a thump.

Rebecca hurried out of Higher for Hire. "Ooo! I don't believe that!"

"Don't believe what?" Baloo asked languidly.

"Wally asked me if I was married."

Baloo tilted his cap up to glance at her with mild surprise. "Huh?"

"When I told him I wasn't, he asked me out."

"On a _date?_" Baloo fell out of his hammock, laughing.

Rebecca shot a disgusted look at Higher for Hire where her intern was. "Yes, and when I told him that I don't date younger men, he had the audacity to...to..."

"What? What?" Baloo asked, untangling his foot from the hammock.

"As me how old I was."

Guffawing, Baloo said, "Sounds like he's got a lot of growin' up to do."

"More than you know." There was a satisfied smirk on Rebecca's face.

A one-foot-tall Wally waddled out of Higher for Hire, his body crumpled like an accordion. He was squeaking, "I've never been so insulted in my entire life! This is discrimination because I'm younger, isn't it? Well, they can't do this to me! I'm big, I tell you. Big!"

Rebecca and Baloo laughed as they watched Wally skitter away from Higher for Hire.

"He got one thing right," Baloo said, wiping tears from his face. "He _ is_ big. A big mouth!"

The End


	11. CanDo Baloo

**Can-Do Baloo**

_TaleSpin _ and its characters are the property of Buena Vista/Disney Co. and are used without permission.

_**Higher for Hire**_

Rebecca glanced up from her work when she heard someone pounding down the stairs. Seeing her pilot, she asked, "Baloo, can you...?"

"I can't now, Becky. I don't have time," he replied, racing for the door.

"How do you know you don't have time before I even ask you?"

Baloo, his hand on the doorknob, shrugged. His eyes longingly strayed to the window and outside to the beauty of a summer's day.

"You should have more a can-do attitude like Kit. Every time I ask him to do something, he says, 'Can do, Miz Cunningham'. Now there's a young man who's going places."

Impatiently, Baloo said, "I got places to go, too."

"I'll just bet you do," Rebecca scoffed. "But you'll reach even higher heights with a can-do attitude. Try it and see."

"All right," Baloo agreed with a deep sigh. Knowing that he couldn't win, his hand dropped from the doorknob.

"Let's try this again." Rebecca cleared her throat importantly. "Baloo, can you get a few things downtown for me?"

"Can do," Baloo said with a strained smile.

"Good. Here's a list. And after that, can you wash Higher for Hire's windows?"

Confidently, he said, "No problemo."

"Also, I've noticed that yesterday's windstorm blew down several sticks from the tree out back. I need you to pick them up."

"No sweat." Baloo beamed.

"Good!" Rebecca said with a big smile. "Now, see how easy it is to have a can-do attitude?"

"Yeppers. Catch ya later, Beckers. Got a lot to do."

_**Later...  
Outside Higher for Hire**_

Rebecca strolled outside to see what Baloo's new-found can-do attitude had accomplished. What she saw certainly surprised her.

Wildcat was washing the windows, Molly was picking up sticks, and Kit rounded the corner of Higher for Hire with a sack of groceries in his bicycle's basket.

"Baloo!" Rebecca shouted, storming over to the big bear lounging in a lawn chair in the shade of the_ Sea Duck's_ wing.

"You were sure right, Becky. This can-do attitude thing_ is _easy," he said, taking a long sip of his soda. He then folded his arms behind his head with a sigh of satisfaction. "In fact, I can do it all day long."

A frustrated Rebecca threw up her hands in defeat. "Oh, Baloo..."

The End


	12. Git, Kit!

**Git, Kit!**

_TaleSpin _and its characters are the property of Disney/Buena Vista and are used without permission.

_**Higher for Hire**_

One sunny afternoon, six-year-old Molly Cunningham was playing in the bedroom shared by Baloo and Kit. More specifically, she was bouncing on Kit's bed, trying to reach a model airplane that dangled tantalizingly overhead.

"Can't..." _bounce_ "reach!" _Bounce_ "Don't worry, sidekick Lucy." _Bounce_ "You'll have your plane ride..." _Bounce _"I just wish I was..." _bounce_ "a little bigger."

Her eyes lit up when she spied Kit's schoolbooks on the night stand. She hopped off the bed, gathered up the books, and stacked them on the bed. "Yep, that ought to do it," she said surveying her work proudly.

She climbed on top of the stack of books and raised herself on tiptoe. Her fingers barely brushed the model airplane when she lost her balance and tumbled onto the bed in a flurry of books and papers and blankets.

Removing an open notebook from her face, she said sadly, "Guess I'll have to think of something else." Then something caught her eye. "What's this?"

She read from Kit's notebook: "'What I want for my birthday.' Did you know it was Kit's birthday, Lucy? Me neither." She continued to read. "'I think the best birthday party would be one where there is chocolate cake and homemade ice cream. I also want to go fishing.'

"Fishing?" Molly shot a confused look at her doll. "But he does that with Baloo a lot already. I better show this to Mom."

The little girl raced down the stairs with her doll in one hand and the notebook in the other. "Mom! Mom! Look what I found in Baloo and Kit's room."

Rebecca closed the filing cabinet drawer and looked sternly at her daughter. "Have you been snooping again?"

"I wasn't snooping. This just sort of fell open. Lookee." She pointed to the essay. "It's Kit's birthday wish list."

"Kit's birthday?" Rebecca said, astonished.

"Guess so. Why would he write about it if it wasn't?"

Rebecca read over the essay. Quietly, she said, "I wonder why he kept it a secret...?"

"Don't know, but since it's not a secret anymore can we surprise him?"

"Of course, honey," Rebecca said, patting her daughter's head. "Let's get started right away."

_**Later...**_

Kit and Oscar strolled into Higher for Hire after one of their official Jungle Aces Secret Midnight Club meetings.

Oscar was saying, "It sure is nice of you to show me your new model airplane, Kit."

"No problem. What are friends for?" Kit said with a big smile.

"My mom won't let me put models together. She said the glue fumes will stunt my growth."

"The smell is kind of strong," Kit admitted. "Speaking of which, something sure smells good in the kitchen. Miz Cunningham must be baking. I hope it's chocolate chip cookies. Want some?"

"Sure. My mom never lets me eat sweets. She says they'll rot my teeth."

As soon as Kit and Oscar entered the kitchen, Rebecca quickly stepped in front of the cake cooling on the table.

Molly exclaimed, "What are you doing in here, Kit?"

"Uh, I live here," Kit said, trying to peek around Rebecca to see if there were any of his favorite cookies up for grabs.

Molly grabbed him by the arm and steered him towards the door. "Well, get out!"

"What?" Kit looked imploringly over his shoulder at his boss.

Instead of the assistance he expected, Rebecca said sternly, "You heard her, Kit. Get out and don't come back in here again."

"What did I do, Miz Cunningham?" the bewildered boy cried.

"Go!" Rebecca said, pointing at the door.

Hurt and confused, Kit left the kitchen with Oscar on his heels. "Jeepers, Miz Cunningham hasn't been that mad at me since the first time I babysat Molly. I wonder what I did this time."

"I guess Father was right," Oscar said solemnly as they headed outside. "There's no understanding women."

_**Back in the Kitchen**_

"That was sure close, wasn't it, Mom?" Molly asked.

Rebecca got out the bowl to make frosting. "It sure was. Another step and Kit would have spoiled his birthday surprise."

_**Later...**_

Baloo returned home from a busy day delivering cargo. Alighting from the _Sea Duck_, he saw Kit and Oscar sitting on the dock, staring into the harbor.

"Why so glum, Li'l Britches?"

"Miz Cunningham and Molly threw me out of Higher for Hire," Kit replied.

"What?" the big bear exclaimed. "They can't do that to you. You live here! What'd ya do to tick Becky off?"

Kit shrugged. "I dunno."

Oscar piped up. "We just walked into the kitchen to see if there were any cookies and before we knew it, they were yelling at Kit."

Scowling, Baloo stormed up the dock, muttering, "We'll just see about that."

When he entered the kitchen, Rebecca scurried to stand in front of the cake while Molly whisked a towel over the ice cream mixer.

"Becky, what gives? Kit says..." Baloo's nose twitched in appreciation. "Mmm...chocolate cake with extra fudgy frosty?"

"And homemade ice cream!" Molly announced.

Rebecca nodded and stepped aside, allowing Baloo to see the cake. "For Kit's birthday."

"Kit's birthday? He didn't tell me it was his birthday," Baloo said, surprised.

"He doesn't tell us a lot of stuff." Rebecca showed Baloo the essay.

After Baloo had skimmed it, he mumbled, "Doggone that kid. Does he think we wouldn't care about his birthday?" Eagerly, he added, "Can I help?"

"Yep. You can help crank the ice cream," Molly said. "My arm's getting tired."

_**Outside...**_

"I wonder if Baloo smoothed things over with Miz Cunningham," Kit said, rising to his feet.

He and Oscar made their way into Higher for Hire. Mindful of his past scolding, Kit slowly pushed open the kitchen door.

Before the boy could even step one toenail in the kitchen, Baloo barked, "What in blue blazes are ya doin' in here, Kit? Git!"

An extremely baffled Kit opened, then shut his mouth wordlessly.

Blinking rapidly, Kit closed the kitchen door. "It's one thing to have Miz Cunningham telling me that she doesn't want me here, but my own Papa Bear?" He swallowed hard.

"You can always move in with me, Kit," Oscar suggested. "We have plenty of room."

"Thanks, Oscar." Kit glanced at the kitchen door, behind which he could hear laughter and happy voices. He sighed. "Guess I'll go pack."

_**Back in the Kitchen**_**...**

"Cake's done," Rebecca announced, admiring her handiwork.

"So's the ice cream," Molly said, licking some ice cream off the beater.

"And after we eat, we'll grab the fishin' poles and make this a birthday that Kit will never forget," Baloo said, surreptitiously scraping a little frosting from the base of the cake when Rebecca's back was turned.

"I'll go get him!" Molly hopped off the chair and ran into the office.

Kit was walking down the stairs, suitcase in hand. "I can't tell you how much I appreciate this, Oscar."

Oscar was carefully carrying Kit's model airplane. "It'll be fun. I've always wanted a brother."

"Kit! Kit!" Seeing the suitcase, Molly asked, "Where are you going?"

"Over to Oscar's."

Molly grabbed his hand. "Come into the kitchen."

"I'm not allowed in there, remember?" Kit said sarcastically.

"You are now," Molly said, yanking on his arm.

"Now?" Kit murmured wonderingly.

"Surprise!" Baloo, Rebecca, and Molly shouted when Kit entered.

Seeing the cake and ice cream, Kit squeaked, "What's all this?"

"It's your birthday surprise," Rebecca explained.

"_My_ birthday?" Kit said with a puzzled look on his face.

"Yeah," Baloo said, handing the notebook to Kit. "Just like you wrote."

"But this isn't mine."

"I was wondering where that went," Oscar exclaimed.

"That's _your_ notebook?" Rebecca cried, sharing quizzical looks with Baloo and Molly.

"Uh-huh. I wanted a normal birthday for a change. My mom always has a fancy sit-down dinner with a hundred of her closest friends," Oscar said sadly, hugging the notebook. "She never asks me what I want."

Baloo clapped Oscar on the shoulder. "Can't let a good birthday party go to waste. We got cake and ice cream and all the trimmings. We'll even go fishin', Sport."

"Oh, boy!" Oscar said, grinning with delight. "You have the best family, Kit."

"Yeah," Kit said. He didn't even care that it wasn't his birthday -- he was sincerely happy for his friend. And his family loved him after all. "I guess I do."

The End


	13. Snow Question

**Snow Question**

_TaleSpin_ and its characters are the property of Disney/Buena Vista Co. and are used without permission. **  
**

_**The Glorious People's Capitol Building in Mustgo, The Glorious Capital City of the Glorious People's Republic of Thembria**_

"Sergeant Dunder!" Colonel Spigot lisped. He charged across the office as fast as his short warthog legs would take him and smacked his riding crop against the worn desk. "What are you doing?"

Without breaking stride in his work, Dunder replied, "Stamping the official snow reports before taking them to the Ministry of Snow."

"And _why_ are you doing that?" There was a suspicious gleam in Spigot's eye, as if he suspected an ulterior motive behind Dunder's actions.

"Because I've done this every Wednesday for the past ten-and-a-half years?" Dunder replied with a shrug.

"I want you to cease immediately!"

Dunder looked up from the massive piles of paperwork, his stamp suspended in mid-air. "Sir?"

Pacing around the dim, drab office lined with filing cabinets, Spigot said, "It has come to my attention that there is a distinct lack of organization and hierarchy here."

"I haven't noticed any shortages," Dunder said wonderingly. "At least, no more than normal."

"Is that a short joke?" Spigot snapped, stopping to whack the much larger Sergeant across the knee with his whip.

Dunder contritely hung his head. "Sorry, Colonel Spigot, sir."

Spigot continued to pace around the office, lightly smacking his riding crop against his palm. "Without organization and hierarchy, there is utter chaos! Worst of all, it is interfering with our work output."

"Maybe if you didn't take so many naps, sir," Dunder hazarded quietly.

"How many times must I tell you, Sergeant Dunder, that I'm _not _ napping. I'm thinking deep thoughts."

"I've never heard anyone snore and think at the same time, sir."

"Because it's a talent that only a true genius can possess."

"Oh." Relying on his Thembrian logic, Dunder deduced, "Then you must be a true genius, sir."

"Exactly." Spigot proudly drew himself up to his full height, which wasn't much. "Because of my vast intelligence, I want you to ask me, your superior supervisor, permission to do _everything!_"

"Everything, sir?"

"Everything." Spigot glared at Dunder menacingly. "Or you will be shot."

"Yes, sir." Dunder paused for a moment, looking at the stamp in his hand. "Colonel?"

Rocking on his heels, Spigot said expectantly, "You have a question, Sergeant Dunder?"

"Request permission to continue stamping the snow reports, sir?"

"Yes, you may. And because you asked so nicely, I will help you," Spigot said magnanimously.

Dunder shifted uneasily in his hardbacked chair. The last time that the colonel had helped him, he had to redo everything in triplicate, and he had been flogged because he had been five months behind in his work. "Thank you, sir, but you're better suited to your deep thoughts, sir."

"You're so right, Sergeant Dunder," Spigot said with a smug smirk. He settled himself into his favorite well-padded chair in front of the radar screen. Closing his eyes, he said, "Carry on."

_**Later...**_

"Colonel Spigot?" When his superior officer didn't answer, Dunder repeated it a little louder. "Colonel Spigot?"

Spigot awoke with a snort. When his blurry eyes focused, he snapped, "How dare you disturb my deep thoughts?"

"Sorry, sir. I'm out of ink." Dunder held up the empty ink bottle as proof. "Request permission to get some more from the Department of Supplies?"

"Permission granted."

"And can I use the little sergeant's room on the way there?"

Eager to get back to his nap, Spigot waved him aside. "If you must, but hurry it up."

_**Even Later...**_

Sergeant Dunder leaned over his sleeping supervisor, his arms loaded with a stack of papers, all neatly stamped and forged with Colonel Spigot's signature. "Request permission to take these reports to the Ministry of Snow?"

_Snore..._

"I take that as a yes," Dunder said.

_**Much Later...**_

"Colonel? Colonel Spigot, sir?" Dunder said, shaking Spigot's shoulder. "There is an urgent situation, sir."

Spigot awoke with a startled snort, saying, "I wasn't sleeping, High Marshall, sir! I was merely thinking deep thoughts for the benefit...of...the...Mommyland." Seeing that there was no one but Dunder in the room, he frowned. "What do _you_ want? Another question?"

"Yes, sir. Request permission to blow my nose?"

Impatiently, Spigot said, "Permission granted."

"Request permission to throw my used tissue into the trash?"

Irritated, Spigot lisped, "Yes. Whatever."

"Request permission to sharpen my pencil?"

Angrily, Spigot spat, "Granted."

"Request permission to...?"

"Sergeant Dunder!" Spigot snapped. He hopped down from his chair and stormed over to the sergeant's desk. Standing on tiptoe, he grabbed Dunder's shirt and yanked him down so that he was eye-to-eye. "Stop asking me questions!"

"But you said..."

Giving Dunder a fierce shake, Spigot cried, "Don't listen to what I said. Listen to what I'm saying. And I'm saying that good leaders follow orders."

"Does that mean that I'm going to be promoted, sir?" Dunder asked hopefully.

"Don't be silly," Spigot said, releasing Dunder's uniform with a light, sarcastic laugh. "Only true geniuses with talents like mine are promoted."

"Of course, sir."

"Leave me alone for the rest of the day, or you will be shot!" Spigot settled into his chair, muttering, "Stupid sergeants... If it wasn't for us true geniuses, us superior supervisors, nothing would ever get done around here...."

"Yes, Colonel Spigot, sir." With a disappointed sigh, Dunder returned to his desk. He picked up his stamp and began stamping papers in time to his superior supervisor's snores.

The End


	14. Glowing Ape

**Glowing Ape**

_TaleSpin _and its characters are the property of Disney/Buena Vista and are used without permission.

_**Higher for Hire**_

One afternoon, Baloo burst into Higher for Hire, saying, "I'm tellin' ya, Becky, that Louie is just the best friend a guy could have."

Without looking up from her ledger, Rebecca murmured, "That's nice."

Baloo perched on the edge of her desk. "Yessiree, he told me that if I ever needed something - like a place to stay for a week or something like that - he wouldn't hesitate in sayin' 'yes'." He cast a shrewd glance at his boss. Seeing that she was barely paying attention, he continued, "'Cause that's what friends do, right?"

"Of course," she mumbled, punching numerous buttons on her adding machine.

"Glad to hear it, Becky." Springing from the desk, Baloo rushed over to the door. "'Cause I told Louie he could stay here for the week while the paint wore off."

"That's..." When his words finally registered, Rebecca shouted, "_WHAT?_"

Baloo flung open the door to reveal Louie standing on the doorstep, bulging bags in both hands. His normally reddish-brown fur was covered with what seemed to be metallic bronze paint. "Hiya, Becky baby! Long time no see."

Rebecca shielded her eyes from the sun glinting off the ape."Not long enough..." Grabbing Baloo by the ear, she said through clenched teeth, "Would you excuse us a minute?" She pulled the wincing pilot into the kitchen and pushed him down into a chair. "Talk!"

Rubbing his ear, which was becoming perpetually sore from being frequently tweaked, he said, "Well, like I was tellin' ya, Becky. Louie found a few creepy-crawlies in his place the other day, so he called in the extentionists."

"That's _exterminators_."

"Yeah, them. Anyhoo, one of 'em accidentally had a sprayer loaded with paint instead of bug spray an' it accidentally went off all over Louie..."

"Which is why Louie is _accidentally_ here," Rebecca concluded.

"Bingo. If the other pilots ever saw his new dye job, they'd never let him live it down. He needed a place to lay low."

Rebecca said ominously, "I can think of a couple of places for that low-life..."

"Trust me, you'll never even know he's here."

The words were barely out of his mouth when there was a crash in the office.

"You were saying?" Rebecca said wryly as she and Baloo rushed into the office where Louie was picking a juicer off the floor.

"The good news is that the juicer didn't get juiced, but I'm afraid the floor is splintersville."

"The _floor_?" Rebecca looked at the gaping hole in the floorboards, then glared accusingly at Baloo.

Baloo squirmed uncomfortably. "That's our cue to am-scray."

As Baloo and Louie escaped upstairs, Louie shouted over the banister, "Dig ya later, Becky baby."

Rebecca, who was still staring at the hole in the floor, groaned, "I'd like to dig a hole and crawl into it."

_**Upstairs  
Baloo and Kit's Bedroom**_

Baloo set one of Louie's heavy bags down with a 'thud'. "I figger you can sleep on the cot we got in the storeroom. I'll go up an' get it. Just make yourself at home."

A moment later, Baloo returned with the cot. "Here ya go, pal. I...yi-yi..." The big bear dropped the cot, amazed by the change in the room. Louie's stuff was scattered all over and he had even rearranged the furniture.

Louie, sprawled out on Baloo's bed looking as comfortable as he if had always lived there, said, "Hope ya don't mind that I made a few changes and rearranges."

Baloo swallowed more than his pride. "Uh...nope. In fact, Kit was sayin' just the other day that we should do something different with this place and this is definitely...different."

To add insult to injury, the cot broke when Baloo sat down on it.

_**Later...**_

Louie was literally hanging over Rebecca's shoulder, 'helping' while she totaled numbers in her ledger.

While counting on his hands and feet, Louie said, "Five plus 6 is 11 plus 7 is 18 plus 2 is..."

Annoyed, Rebecca retorted, "Thank you, but I can do this in my head, Louie." _Why, oh, why didn't he go on the cargo run with Baloo?_

"And what a bee-you-ti-ful head it is. Have I ever told you that I _love_ your hair?" he said, sniffing at her hair.

"Only 32 times," Rebecca muttered, shoving him away. Seeing Kit come through the door, she cried, "Kit! You're home from school." Under her breath, she added, "Thank goodness!"

"Hey, Miz Cunningham. Louie, what are you doing here?"

"Bothering me," Rebecca said none too quietly.

"And what happened to your fur?" Kit asked.

"My nightclub was infested with pests so Baloo is lettin' me crash here for seven days while my place is sprayed. I just happened to get sprayed, too. With paint, that is." The big ape glanced ruefully down at his shiny bronze fur.

"Gee, that's too bad," Kit said, wriggling out of his backpack. "I was really looking forward to one of your pizzas this Friday night."

"I know!" Rebecca exclaimed. "Why don't you make one of your special pizzas right here, Louie?"

Dubiously, Louie said, "I don't know. Without my equipment I'm afraid the dough won't grow and the tomato paste won't taste..."

"Nonsense!" Rebecca said, pushing Louie and Kit into the kitchen. "With your...er, _abilities_... I'm sure you can make a pizza here." When the door shut behind them, she returned to her desk, dusting off her hands. "And you'll be out of my hair."

_**Kitchen**_

Kit emerged from the cupboards triumphantly. "One mixing bowl and one spoon coming up."

Louie eyed the cooking utensils uncertainly. "I dunno about this, Short Stuff. My mixing bowl is much bigger."

"This is the biggest bowl we have. You'll just have to improvise."

"Hey, I'm the master of improv." Louie scat sang while he mixed ingredients in the bowl.

When Kit put a can of tomato sauce on the counter, Louie recoiled in horror. "What is _that?_"

Confused, Kit replied, "Tomato sauce."

"Ol' Louie ain't a fan of canned. Fresh is best. And what about the cheese and pepperoni and peppers and...?"

Kit sighed. "You'd better make me a shopping list."

_**Later...**_

Baloo entered Higher for Hire, grinning. "Do I smell one of Louie's primo pizzas? I knew bringing Louie here would be a good idea."

Rebecca pushed past him, saying, "Bringing Louie here was a bad idea."

"Whattaya mean?"

"You'll see," she said as she raced to her car.

Baloo shouted after her, "Aren't ya stayin' for dinner?"

"I don't even want to stay to see you get your just desserts!" Rebecca retorted.

"Huh?" As he jauntily strolled through the office towards the kitchen, Baloo said to himself, "I just don't understand that gal. If the dinner is free an' the dinner ain't me, I am there." When he pushed open the kitchen door, his expression changed from happy to bewildered. "What's going on in here?"

Kit, who was standing by the refrigerator and holding a trash can, said glumly, "You're just in time to help clean out the fridge."

From the deepest recesses of the refrigerator, Louie said, "You wouldn't believe what's playing hide-and-leak in here. This pear's so fuzzy, I don't know whether to plant it or pet it."

The pear flew into the trash can.

"I think growin' penicillin's illegal in this country."

Something brown and lumpy and covered with black spots joined the pear.

Pinching his nose, Louie gasped out, "This cheese is so ripe that you could smell it all the way from Thembria."

The cheese followed the pear and the unidentifiable brown, lumpy thing.

Just as Louie was about to toss a sandwich into the trash, Baloo cried, "Hey, I was savin' that!"

"Since when? 1922?"

The rock-hard sandwich ricocheted off the inside of the trash can with a _clang_.

Baloo eyed the pizza cooling on the stove. "When are we gonna chow down?"

Louie popped his head out of the fridge and said indignantly, "I don't see how you can think about food when your fridge is so cruddy crude. A clean refrigerator is an efficient refrigerator."

Baloo shared a hopeless look with Kit. "There's two of 'em now..."

_**That Night**_

Kit, wearing his earmuffs, was cozily curled up in his bed, fast asleep. Baloo, however, hadn't closed his eyes all night. He stared wide-eyed into the darkness, listening to Louie's snoring.

_Snnnnnxxxxx-eeee-be-be-be-be-be-be-be-be_ Louie's snoring went up the scale.

_Snnnnxxxxxx-eeee-be-be-be-be-be-be-be-be_ Louie's snoring went down the scale.

_Louie is the only guy I know who can snore an' sing at the same time_, Baloo thought as he gingerly turned over on the creaking, broken cot. Scowling, he plunked his pillow over his ears.

_**The Next Afternoon  
Kitchen**_

Kit and Molly watched closely as Louie deftly juggled three mangoes.

"I'm gonna show you kids the secret of makin' my famous, patent-pending mango shake. First, ya gotta..."

_Crash!_ A mango escaped from Louie's hands and flew through the window.

"Throw a mango out the window?" Molly asked.

If Louie hadn't have been covered in bronze paint, his face would have been scarlet. "Oops. Your kitchen ain't as wide as mine."

"We noticed," Kit said as the last fragment of glass fell out of the pane.

Outside, Wildcat stood up. His head was covered with a dripping mango. "Hey, did you guys know it was raining mangos?"

_**Later...**_

The Higher for Hire gang - minus Louie - were gathered in the _Sea Duck's_ cargo hold. None of them looked very happy.

"Louie has got to go!" Rebecca remarked, her arms crossed.

Baloo uneasily rubbed the back of his neck, because everyone was glaring at him. "How come?"

"He's hanging over my shoulder," Rebecca replied.

"And he's rearranged our room," Kit added.

"He threw a mango out the window and we didn't get any ice cream!" Molly cried.

"You mean it's not raining mangoes?" Wildcat said, disappointed.

"He needs to go, Baloo," Rebecca said pointedly.

"He will...in a coupla days."

"Now! Do you hear me, buster!"

Louie, who had been listening outside, poked his head inside. A tear trickled down his bronze-painted cheek. "I dig ya loud and clear, Becky baby." _Sniff_. "Ol' Louie knows when he's not wanted." _Sniff_. "That's okay. I understand. I got in the way cookin' and cleanin' and helpin'." _Sniff._ "Don't worry 'bout me. I'll be right as rain as long as I can stay out of it." _Sniff. Sniff._ "Wonder if the hobos got an opening under one of the bridges for a poor old homeless ape like me? I'll just go pack my bags."

Baloo, Rebecca, Kit, and Molly felt guiltier and guiltier as they watched Louie trudge up the dock.

Rebecca sighed. Reluctantly, she shouted, "Fine! You can stay!"

Louie sped back to the _Sea Duck_. "No jive, Clive?"

"Yes...I mean, no?"

His face beaming as brightly as the sun, Louie hugged Rebecca fiercely. "You won't regret it, Becky baby."

"I already do," Rebecca gasped out comically, causing the others to laugh.

The End


	15. Everybody Loves Kit

**Everybody Loves Kit**

_TaleSpin_, its characters, Mickey Mouse, and Goofy are the property of Disney and are used without permission.

Author's forward: This fic assumes that the _TaleSpin _characters are real-life actors in a TV show, meaning that it's not set in the TS universe, but in 1990. And now that everyone's confused, let the fic commence...

_**Molly's Dressing Trailer **_

Molly reclined in a barber's chair, her hair swathed in a towel. She twirled the belt of her fuzzy pink robe while she talked on the phone to her manager.

"It's not fair! Everybody loves Kit, and I mean _everybody_. I get tired of hearing: 'Kit is so brave for doing all his own stunts' and 'Kit looks darling in that little cap' and 'Kit is so smart; he _always _knows his lines and _never_ needs any prompting'. There's even talk of him co-starring with Arnold Schwarzenegger in the next _Terminator_ movie. Everyone thinks he'd be perfect as the fatherless boy with a bad attitude and a mysterious past. Can't you get me something where I can show him up? There's _got _to be a wonderful part for a cute little girl out there." She looked at herself in the mirror and batted her eyelashes.

She listened for a moment, then exclaimed, "A cameo on _Full House_? No way! Those Olsen twins are ear pullers! What else?" She took a long sip of chocolate milk and nearly spit it out in disgust. "A commercial for Welch's grape juice? That's for babies! Think movies, _movies_!"

"Did someone say 'movies'?" Kit said as he entered the trailer.

From out of nowhere came thundering applause.

"There it goes again," Molly said in disgust as she looked around for the source of the mysterious applause. "What do _you_ want?"

"I'm hiding from my fans. They won't leave me alone. I don't know why I'm so popular," Kit said with a shrug.

"I don't know why I'm so popular," Molly said mockingly in a falsetto tone. Her words were drowned out by the applause. "Why don't you hide in your own trailer?"

"I can't get into my trailer," Kit explained as he plopped down on a stool. "It's full of fans, but since you don't have any fans..."

"Don't rub it in." Molly said it under her breath, but she could have shouted it and Kit still wouldn't have been able to hear her over the applause. In fact, she was getting so annoyed with the applause, that she wanted to scream.

A moment later, she did the next best thing. She shrieked. She had been pinned up against the wall, because a flood of Kit fans had streamed into her trailer, demanding autographs from everyone's favorite bear cub.

When the last fan had left, Molly crawled out of the corner where she had been cowering. "What's your secret, Kit?" she asked weakly.

Kit straightened his ripped shirt and picked up his cap which had been trampled under the feet of many adoring fans. "I guess it's because I have a good manager."

Just then, Mickey Mouse popped his head into the dressing trailer, a clipboard in one hand and a Kit-sized suit in the other. "Ha-ha! Ready for your next audition, Kit?"

"You bet!" Kit said, exiting the dressing trailer amid thundering applause.

A very mad Molly said into the phone reproachfully, "Why can't _you_ be a good manager like that?"

"Garwsh..." said Goofy's penitent voice from the other end of the line.

The End


	16. No Fun and Games

**No Fun and Games**

_TaleSpin _and its characters are the property of Disney/Buena Vista Co. and are used without permission. All other characters are mine and cannot be used without permission.

_**Thembrian Police Station**_

"But I'm tellin' ya, Officer..." Baloo was sweating profusely despite the fact that the temperature inside the police station was below freezing. "It was just a little accident. Cross my heart an' hope to fly, I didn't see you 'cause me and Kit were racing to deliver these..."

The police officer slammed his massive fist against the counter, creating a minor earthquake. In a thick Thembrian accent, he growled, "You Uslandians are all the same. Everything is a contest. Here, there are no winners or losers. Only Thembrians."

Baloo glanced up at the burly officer towering above him. Recalling the large, warthog-shaped dent that now adorned the _Sea Duck's _fuselage, he gulped nervously. "I'll say."

The unhappy, yet unscathed, officer brushed specks of yellow paint from his uniform. "Since you say it was an accident, I will let you off easy."

"That's real swell of ya..." Baloo's smile faded when three massive stacks of paper were plunked down on the counter in front of him. "What's this for?"

"It is the official running-over-a-police-officer-accidentally-with-a-yellow-seaplane apology paperwork."

"Because of a little accident?"

The officer glared at Baloo across the counter. "If you don't fill it out,_ you _will have a little accident in front of a firing squad."

Baloo quickly whipped a pencil out of his shirt pocket and immediately began scribbling on the paperwork. "I'm fillin'. I'm fillin'."

Kit sighed. Because Baloo had accidentally squirted mustard into his eyes and run over a police officer, they would be there all day. It wasn't exactly how he wanted to spend his Saturday.

The boy wandered over to the window, rubbed a circle of frost off the glass, and took an inventory of the bleak landscape outside. On one side of the snow-covered square, there was a snow-covered statue of the High Marshall. On the opposite side of the snow-covered square, there was a snow-covered statue of the Great Patriotic Flounder. But it was what was between the statues that caught his eye.

Scores of unsmiling Thembrian children were marching into the square in two neat lines. They were headed towards Colonel Spigot and Sergeant Dunder who happened to be standing on a makeshift stage directly under Kit's window.

Spigot gave a short blast on a whistle and shouted, "Halt!"

Heedless of his command, the children continued to stiffly march into the square.

At the top of his lungs, Spigot bellowed, "I _order_ you to halt! _Now!_" He blew the whistle so loudly that Dunder had to cover his ears.

The children still continued to march as if they hadn't heard him.

"Halt!" Sergeant Dunder said in a normal volume.

As if that was the cue they were waiting for, the children stopped in their tracks and stood at attention, facing the stage.

Inside the police station, Kit glanced over his shoulder. Since neither the officer behind the desk nor Baloo, who was furiously scribbling, were paying attention to him, he decided to see what was happening outside. Whatever it was, it was more exciting than what was going on inside. He deftly slipped outside where he spied an acquaintance.

"Hey, Bobbo," Kit said, hurrying over to the pudgy Thembrian boy. "What's going on?"

Out of the corner of his mouth, Bobbo whispered, "Today is Thembrian Junior Day, the day when all of us are required to play games."

"Games? What kind of games? And what do you mean 'required'?"

Before Bobbo could answer, Spigot shouted, "No talking in the ranks!" He importantly cleared his throat. "Welcome to the Glorious Thembrian Junior Day, which is glorious day for you Junior Thembrians. And why is it a glorious day? Because you will be learning skills like teamwork and blind obedience that will enable you to grow up to be loyal Thembrians."

Five minutes later, Kit found himself in a tug-of-war game. Before him was a pit filled with slush. Across the pit was a line of Thembrian children. Behind him was a line of Thembrian children.

"This is tug-of-war. I assume you all know what to do," Col. Spigot said, twirling his whistle. "Now, pick up the rope!"

In unison, the Thembrian children did as they were told. Kit hurried to follow suit, his cold hands tightly gripping the rough rope.

When the colonel blew his whistle, Kit pulled with all his might, thus propelling the kids opposite him into the slush pit.

"Halt!" sputtered Spigot, who had been splashed with slush. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Tugging?" Kit replied, dropping the rope.

Spigot grabbed Dunder's proffered handkerchief and swiped it across his wet face. "There's no tugging in tug-of-war!"

"There isn't?" Kit murmured in disbelief.

"Enough tug-of-war. Commence with the turnip races!" Spigot commanded, blowing slush out of his whistle.

A little while later, Kit was clenching a spoon between his teeth. In the bowl of the spoon was a turnip.

"On your marks, get set, go," Dunder said, half-heartedly waving a green flag.

Kit soon bolted ahead of everyone.

From the sidelines, Bobbo said as loudly as he dared, "Kit, slow down! Slow down!"

Not understanding, Kit waved at his friend as he crossed the finish line. "I won!" he cried happily after removing the spoon from his mouth.

"You lose," Col. Spigot said, storming over to him.

Kit stared the diminutive colonel directly in the eye. "I won fair and square. I didn't even drop the turnip."

Spigot snatched the turnip and promptly dropped it on the ground. "Sergeant Dunder!"

In a flash, Dunder was at his side. "Sir?"

Col. Spigot silently pointed to the turnip.

"Yes, sir." Dunder smashed the turnip beneath his boot.

"That'll teach you to lose," Col. Spigot said, glaring at Kit.

Confused, Kit turned to his friend. "What's going on here, Bobbo?"

The mild-mannered boy explained, "These are Thembrian games, Kit. In Thembria, there are no winners or losers. Only Thembrians."

"But if there's no competition, what's the point of these games?"

Bobbo proudly quoted: "To build comradeship and to teach us to be better Thembrians."

"Teach you how to follow orders, you mean," Kit said sarcastically.

"Now you've got it," Bobbo said with a small smile. "After all, good leaders follow orders."

Before Kit could ask any more questions, Col. Spigot shouted, "Commence the ice shaving contest!"

"Ice shaving?" Bobbo said excitedly...or as excitedly as a Thembrian was allowed to get. "Let's go."

Kit sighed and shrugged. Anything was better than watching Baloo fill out paperwork, even ice shaving. "Okay."

Hours later, Kit was in the _Sea Duck_ en route to Cape Suzette.

Baloo shook his right hand, which was suffering from severe writer's cramp. "Man, I thought I'd never finish those forms. There must have been 5,000 of 'em, an' all just for one little ol' accident. What'd you do all day, Kit?"

"Oh, I just played some games with some kids," Kit said vaguely, looking out the window. Below, he saw the end of another race and marveled how every single child crossed the finish line at precisely the same time.

Simultaneously, Baloo and Kit muttered, "Thembrians, go fig."

The two bears looked at each other and chuckled.

Far below, Bobbo looked up at the departing _Sea Duck_ and murmured, "Uslandians, go fig." He ran to join his comrades when Col. Spigot blew his whistle and shouted, "Commence the chicken calling contest!"

The End


	17. The Shout Heard 'Round the World

**The Shout Heard 'Round the World**

_TaleSpin _ and its characters are the property of Disney / Buena Vista Co. and are used without permission.

"_BALOOOOOOO!_"

The familiar sound of Rebecca Cunningham screaming at her troublesome pilot resounded throughout the small brown building by Cape Suzette's peaceful harbor.

It also resounded throughout downtown Cape Suzette...

Shere Khan quirked an eyebrow when his gigantic, floor-to-ceiling window cracked from floor to ceiling. "I am not amused."

The petite bearesses' scream traveled across the ocean to Pirate Island...

"Earthquake!" Mad Dog shouted, running around in confused circles like all of his fellow pirates. "What do we do? What do we do?"

Mad Dog stopped screeching and skittering about when his cheek received a severe smack from his fearless leader, Don Karnage.

"You will stop doing what you are doing and start doing what I am doing, _eediot!_" The 'fearless leader' yelped like a little girl and started running around in a tight circle when a rock fell and crushed his tail.

The other pirates looked at each other, shrugged, and followed Karnage's example, yelping and running.

Rebecca's scream even reached all the way to Thembria...

Col. Spigot was exiting the People's Glorious Government Building with the faithful Sergeant Dunder trotting meekly behind. "If _you_ don't do what the High Marshall wants _me_ to do, Sergeant Dunder,_ you_ will be buried in paperwork! Buried!"

_Thump!_ went an avalanche of snow as it slid off the building, completely covering both warthogs.

From beneath the pile of snow, Dunder's muffled voice asked, "Like that, sir?"

Back at Higher for Hire...

Scowling, Rebecca retorted, "Do you hear me, buster?"

"I heard it. I heard it," Baloo said quickly. In fact, his ringing ears were still hearing it.

"Good. Now where's the receipt for the sugar plum delivery?" Fixing her stern gaze on her pilot, she held out her hand expectantly.

"Um...it's like this, Becky..." Baloo chuckled nervously. "I plumb forgot it?"

The big bear's hands once again flew to protect his ears when he saw his boss take a deep breath.

"_BALOOOOOOOOO!_"

At Khan Towers...

Shere Khan quirked the other eyebrow when his newly installed window cracked from floor to ceiling. "I am still not amused."

At Pirate Island...

"It's another earthquake!" Mad Dog screeched. "Save us, Captain, save us!"

Seeing all of his merry marauders rushing towards him like linebackers descending on a quarterback, Karnage clutched his bandaged tail and whimpered, "Watch the tail! Watch the tail!"

A moment later, Karnage - tender tail and all - was crushed beneath the cowardly corsairs.

Karnage's weak voice floated out from the bottom: "When I get up, all of your tails will be in a slingshot."

Just then, a rock fell from the ceiling onto the pile of pirates, like a cherry on top of an ice cream sundae.

"Ow..." moaned Karnage.

And at Thembria...

Sergeant Dunder had just pulled Colonel Spigot out of the snow.

Spigot spit snow out of his mouth and said, "Do you know what the punishment is for letting your superior officer be buried alive in an avalanche? It's..."

_Thump!_ went more snow as it fell off the roof, once more covering them.

"Being buried alive in snow myself, sir?" came Sergeant Dunder's muffled reply.

Back at Higher for Hire...

Baloo uncovered his ears. "All right, Becky, all right. I get it. You're mad."

Jabbing her finger at his chest with every syllable, Rebecca said, "You better believe it, buster, and if you don't fly your fat fanny back to get that receipt, I'll..."

Baloo clapped a hand over her mouth. "I heard, I heard." As he rushed outside towards the _Sea Duck_ he muttered under his breath, "I bet the whole, wide world heard."

The End


	18. Bursting His Bubble

**Bursting His Bubble**

_TaleSpin_ and its characters are property of Disney/Buena Vista Co and are used without permission.

Author's note: If you've ever seen "Duck Amuck" starring Daffy Duck, you'll get the general idea of this fic. Pretend, if you will, that the _TaleSpin_ characters can break the 4th wall and have to answer to a Politically Correct Policewoman...

* * *

"Attack!" Don Karnage yelled into the microphone of his Tri-Wing terror.

At their leader's command, the band of panic-provoking pirates swooped down on the _Sea Duck_, scarring its yellow paint with bullet holes. The seaplane began an elaborate series of twists and turns in an attempt to evade the pirates when...

From off-screen the crisp, insistent female voice of the PC police said, "No, no, no! This is all wrong. Stop the scene at once!"

The _Sea Duck_ and the pirate planes screeched to a halt in mid-air in gravity-defying poses.

"This is a children's program," the PC policewoman pointed out. "Why are you using real bullets?"

"Because we are _real_ pirates!" Don Karnage said, annoyed. He pushed the point of his scabbard away from where it had been poking into his face. "And as real pirates, we are going to shoot down that bulgy bear."

Baloo, whose plane had frozen upside-down in the middle of a barrel roll, stuck his head out the window. "Hey, leave me out of this, Karny. I ain't the one packin' the peashooters."

In a sing-song voice, the PC policewoman said, "We need to work on that grammar, Mr. Baloo. 'Ain't' is_ not_ a verb and we must watch those clipped 'G's. We must teach the children proper English, mustn't we?"

"Yeah, yeah..." Baloo muttered sullenly. What he was really thinking was: _Hurry it up already, lady! This seatbelt's cuttin' into my gut!_

"What did you say?" said the clipped voice of the PC policewoman, reprovingly.

"Uh, I mean 'yes'?" Baloo replied with a forced smile.

"That's better. Now...as to the matter of the bullets. We must replace them with something less frightening, like bubbles."

Baloo snorted loudly.

"Bubbles?" Mad Dog and Dumptruck said in unison.

"Bubbles? _Bubbles?_" Don Karnage spluttered, outraged. "Lady, I am a pirate! I do not play with stinking bubbles!"

Gibber whispered something into his microphone.

"I told you never to mention that incite-ment ever again!" Karnage shouted.

The pirates and Baloo watched as the machine guns were erased and were replaced by bubble-spouting bubble wands.

"This is an insult to my wonderful pirate-ness!" Karnage said, waving his sword in his fury. "I'll sue! I'll quit! I'll..."

Wake up.

Karnage sat upright in his curtain-draped bed, cold sweat beading on his brow. As he looked around at the familiar surroundings, he gave a nervous, yet relieved, laugh."Ha! I-I knew it was a dream all along. Don Karnage, the scourge of the skies, cannot be frightened by..."

"I must admit, I find your accent simply charming," the off-camera PC policewoman purred.

"Eek!" Karnage shrieked, diving under the covers.

The End


	19. The Cracked Face Case

**The Cracked Face Case**

_TaleSpin and its characters are the property of Disney/Buena Vista Co. and are used without permission. I've also taken some liberties with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson, and Professor Moriarty.  
_

_**Higher for Hire  
Baloo and Kit's Bedroom**_

"Turn up the radio, Kit. I can't hear it over Mommy yelling at Baloo _again_." Molly frowned from her perch on the edge of Baloo's bed.

The twelve-year-old cub reached over to the radio sitting on the night stand and adjusted the volume.

Sheerpluck Holmes' crisp, confident voice emanated from the speaker. "Yes, Dr. Whatsun, this case has definitely been a stemwinder, but it also brings to mind remembrances of things past. In fact, it parallels one of the annals that you recorded back in November 1885, _The Adventure of the Hacking Hackney Driver_."

"What?" spluttered Dr. Whatsun. "How?"

"It was foggy that day too. Now, closer inspection of this painting with my magnifying glass reveals that this long-lost, recently-found Veneer is a fake. Note the sloppy brushwork and the numbers hidden under these flecks of paint. It can mean only one thing."

"What?"

"Not what. _Who_, Whatsun. More specifically, Professor Pooriarty, that meretricious meddler, that third-rate art teacher, that Michelangelo of crime."

"What? I can't understand half of what you're saying, Holmes, but it sounds brilliant."

Condescendingly, Holmes replied, "It's primary school, my dear Whatsun. And now, thanks to us, those little primary school children on their little school outings, not to mention the entire world, will be spared from having to gaze upon a cheap copy of _Bluebell, the Glow-in-the-Dark Rabbit_."

"I'm turning the painting around, Holmes. I can't stand looking at its hideousness any longer."

"Whatsun! For once, your common brain has thought of something uncommonly amazing, for hiding behind the painting is…"

"What?"

"Your remarks are, as always, luminous, Whatsun. _What_ is exactly what we're about to find out. Just as I thought. From the telltale traces of the oil-base yellow number five paint on the safe's handle and the initials P.P. engraved on the door, I can definitively deduce that this is Professor Pooriarty's personal safe."

There were sounds of a combination lock being turned as Sheerpluck Holmes muttered, "Pooriarty's real age…his shoe size…and, finally, the number of whiskers on the chinny chin chin of his wire fox terrier."

With a 'click' the safe opened.

"Let's see what Pooriarty has been hiding. Hmm…an autographed photo of Irene Addled, a jade pin from the Far, Far East, a pink memorandum book with 'Rachel' scrawled across the cover, a postcard from the Thereandback Falls, volume one of _Nefarious Plans to Take Over the World_, volume two of _Nefarious Plans to Take Over the World._ I wonder if he has volume three? I've never read it, and it's always advantageous to stay one step ahead of the criminal classes."

"For once, you're one step behind, Sheerpluck Holmes!" crowed a third, very menacing voice.

"Pooriarty!" Whatsun gasped.

"_Professor_ Pooriarty to you," the villain said with a maniacal laugh. "One false move and I will paint you into oblivion."

"What do we do, Holmes? He's got a paint gun, and it's pointed right at us!"

The announcer said, "Tune in next week for the exciting conclusion. Now, a word from our sponsor."

"Does your head ever ache, ever throb, ever feel like it's going to explode? Blast that pain away with Ah-Sprin, the pain-reliever that makes you say, 'Ah'."

Just then, Baloo's vehement voice rose over the radio. "I swear on the _Sea Duck_, Becky, it wasn't me!"

The cubs flew out the bedroom and to the banister to look down into the office in time to hear Rebecca say, "You expect me to believe that five plaster busts of Julius Caesar just _happened_ to jump out of their crates and smash themselves on the dock last night? And _why_ would they do that?"

Baloo chuckled nervously. "Uh, 'cause they were gonna hop over to the café for some Caesar salads?"

"Not funny. You'd better figure out who did it, because the replacements are being delivered here in a few hours. And if those busts get broken, I'll bust your skull, buster!"

The big bear, eager to escape his irate boss, quickly left the office, grumbling, "It'll take a detective to figger this one out."

Molly's eyes lit up. "A detective like Sheerpluck Holmes!" She zipped into the bedroom and returned a few seconds later wearing a deerstalker cap and carrying a magnifying glass. "Come on, Dr. Kit-sun. The game's at hand."

The cubs ran outside and caught up with Baloo in the _Sea Duck's_ cargo hold where the big bear was gingerly pulling a broom out of the back of the overstuffed storage closet.

"How's it going, Baloo?" Molly asked cheerfully.

Startled, Baloo jumped, causing an avalanche miscellaneous stuff to spill onto the cargo hold deck.

"Swell," the pilot said sarcastically, plucking a greasy banana peel from his head. "I got blamed for somethin' I didn't do, _and_ I gotta clean up that mess out there." He gestured with the broom to the broken plaster strewn among five disassembled crates. "What I don't got is a way to figger out how to clear my name."

"You can count on us. Sheerpluck Molly and Dr. Kit-sun to the rescue!"

Baloo smiled skeptically. "Whatever you say, kidderoos."

"First, we have to look for clues." Molly examined the fragments with her magnifying glass, muttering, "I see. I see. I see."

"'You see', what?" Kit asked.

"I dunno. That's what Sheerpluck Holmes always says when he's examining the scene of the crime. He sees everything."

Baloo and Kit shared a look and shrugged.

"Look at this!" Molly shouted, pulling a piece of cloth from the plaster rubble.

"A little Jolly Roger flag?" Baloo said. "It musta shrunk in the wash, 'cause I've seen bandages bigger'n that."

"Pirates!" The little girl's eyes glowed with excitement. "Now this case is getting good."

A confused look crossed Kit's face. "What would pirates want with plaster busts of Julius Caesar?"

Molly replied brightly, "That's what we have to ask the witness." She pointed to Wildcat coming out of his houseboat, his favorite wrench in hand. "Come on, Dr. Kit-sun."

"Witness?" Baloo scoffed as he began to sweep up the shards. "More like _witless_."

The cubs hurried up the dock and scrambled down the ladder to the houseboat's front porch. Molly peered up at Wildcat through her magnifying glass. "Good afternoon, sir. I am Sheerpluck Molly, and this is my trusty sidekick Dr. Kit-sun. Can we ask you a few questions?"

The mechanic spit on his wrench and began polishing it with a rag. "Okay as long as you don't ask me to rub my nose and pat my toes at the same time. That's a tough one. "

"It's about the case."

"A suitcase? I have one of those."

"No, _that_." Kit pointed to Baloo cleaning up the dock.

"I always thought his name was Baloo." Wildcat grinned understandingly. "Oh…'Case' must be his middle name. But my suitcase isn't blue. It's brown."

"Wha…? Never mind." Kit slapped his forehead.

Unfazed, Molly forged ahead. "Did you see who broke the plaster thingies last night and made the big mess?"

Wildcat grinned and nodded decisively, then his grin faded and he shook his head. "Last night? I, uh, don't remember," he said sadly, scratching his shaggy mane with the wrench. Then his expression brightened. "But seven years ago, Kirby, Dutch, and I were at the Clausen's Field airshow. Kirby fixed a broken piston with a crescent wrench and a paperclip, Dutch ate a box of popcorn with extra butter, and I…"

Kit hooked his fingers around Molly's overalls strap and began to pull her away. "Thank you for your time…uh, sir." Through gritted teeth, he said, "Come on, _Sheerpluck_."

After they had scaled the ladder, the boy said, "Well, that was a bust. It's been fun, but I've got homework to do."

"But we can't give up now!" Molly cried. "Baloo's name will never be cleared."

"Molly, there's no way to do that!"

"Yes, there is."

"How?" Kit said skeptically.

Grinning, she lifted the magnifying glass to her eye. "We have to watch the replacements when they come."

_**A Few Hours Later…**_

Darkness was settling over the city where, in the _Sea Duck's _cockpit, Kit and Molly were keeping their vigil. The objects of their attention were the five crates containing the replacement statues. They were plainly visible, sitting under the warehouse light.

The cubs jumped when Baloo popped his head in the cockpit, saying loudly, "You kids still playin' stakeout?"

Kit and Molly both admonished him with, "Shh!"

"Oh, right, right. You have fun with your stakeout. I'm gonna have a steak out, too. Out of the fridge, that is." He guffawed at his own joke, slammed the cockpit door, and ambled up the dock towards Higher for Hire.

A few minutes later, a shadowy figure slunk around the side of the building and approached the crates.

"Kit!" Molly whispered. She pointed to the man who was furtively looking around to see if anyone was watching. From the warehouse light, they were able to see that he was clad in black. The lower half of his face was concealed by a handkerchief and the upper half was hidden beneath a black fedora.

Kit reached under his sweater for his airfoil, saying grimly, "Yeah, I see him."

"We've got him now."

"Stay behind me, Molly."

"Who's Molly?" she asked in feigned ignorance. "I'm Sheerpluck Molly, and Sheerpluck Molly always laughs at danger."

"You won't be laughing if he does something bad to you."

Reluctantly, the little girl muttered, "All right… Sidekicks are no fun sometimes."

The kids exited the cockpit and quietly crept up the dock to where the man was wrenching the lid off a crate with a crowbar. He had just pulled the bust out of the packing straw when Kit called out, "Drop it!" The boy drew a bead on the man, ready to throw his airfoil in his and Molly's defense.

Startled, the man dropped the statue on the dock where it splintered into a thousand fragments.

Kit winced. "Poor choice of words."

The sound of the crash brought Baloo, Rebecca, and Wildcat out of Higher for Hire.

"What was that noise?" Rebecca gasped when she saw the broken bust. "Not again!" Seeing the strange man, she cried, "Who's that?"

"That's the man who broke the other statues, Mommy, er, ma'am."

Baloo swallowed a piece of steak. "Told ya I didn't do it, Becky."

The man, who happened to be a middle-aged cheetah, removed his fedora and yanked the handkerchief from his face, exclaiming exultantly, "I finally found it! The pearl!"

"The pearl?" the Higher for Hire gang echoed, crowding in for a closer look.

"The _Black Pearl_!" The cheetah brandished a toy ship. "I've been looking for this ever since little Jacky hid it while I was pouring these plaster casts. That's the last time I take him to work. He's been whining about this boat all week."

"I guess this belongs to you, too." Molly handed over the tiny Jolly Roger flag. She held her magnifying glass to her eye and triumphantly stated, "Another case solved by Sheerpluck Molly and Dr. Kit-sun. Tune in next week when Sheerpluck Molly…"

"Solves the mystery of whether she can rub her nose and pat her toes at the same time?" Wildcat supplied.

"Yeah!"

The End


End file.
